Forsaken Bloodlines {HP x GOT}

Chapter 4.10: Dragons

Lyanna sat at her desk, the faint glow of her wand illuminating the parchment before her. She dipped her quill into the ink and began to write a letter to her mother, Narcissa.

Dear Mother,

I hope this letter finds you well. I'm writing to you with some troubling news. My name was mysteriously put into the Goblet of Fire, and now I am one of the Champions meant to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. I assure you, I didn't put my name in, and I have no desire to compete in this dangerous event.

Could you or Father do something to stop this? I feel completely out of my depth, and I'm worried about what might happen.

With love, Lyanna

She sealed the letter and sent it off with her owl, watching as it disappeared into the night. Only a couple of hours later, she received a reply from her mother. The owl returned, carrying a letter and a piece of newspaper. Lyanna unfolded the letter first, reading her mother's elegant script.

My dearest Lyanna,

We will do what we can to intervene, but please don't get your hopes up. The rules of the Triwizard Tournament are very strict, and it may be difficult to have you withdrawn.

Stay strong, my dear. We are here for you.

Love, Mother

Lyanna sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment. She then picked up the piece of newspaper that had come with the letter. It was from the Daily Prophet, and the headline made her blood boil: "Teenage Tragedy: Harry Potter and the Triwizard Cup." Harry's photo was ten times the size of the other four champions, including her own.

Lyanna sat alone in the Ravenclaw common room, fuming. She couldn't believe what Rita Skeeter had written about Harry. She scowled at Skeeter's face, flickering demonically in the firelight. Unable to contain her anger, she hurled the paper into the fire where it sizzled nastily and spit out sparks. She stepped back, eyeing the fire as the pictures burned. Her own image was the last to turn to ashes.

The floorboard squealed behind her. She turned to see Lisa standing there, her expression a mix of curiosity and irritation.

"What are you doing this late?" Lisa asked, her voice tinged with accusation.

Lyanna straightened, trying to keep her voice steady. "Who says I was doing anything? Maybe you're imagining things. Wouldn't be the first time."

Lisa's jaw stiffened. Without another word, she turned away. Lyanna watched her go, a pang of regret twisting in her chest. She opened her mouth to speak, to try to make things right, but Lisa muttered, "Practicing for your next interview, I expect," before she disappeared up the stairs.

Lyanna looked back at the fire, the last charred remains of the Prophet -- bearing a single word: Tragedy -- curled up on itself and turned to ash.

Feeling a deep sense of isolation, Lyanna retreated to her dormitory. The other girls were asleep, their breathing steady and peaceful. Lyanna changed into her nightclothes and slipped under the covers, but sleep was elusive. Her mind kept replaying the day's events, the arguments, the doubts, and the overwhelming pressure of the tournament.

Her thoughts drifted to her mother's letter. She knew her parents would try their best, but deep down, she suspected that nothing could change her fate now. She was a Triwizard Champion, whether she liked it or not. She had to find a way to survive this ordeal, for herself and for those who believed in her.

The night stretched on, and Lyanna eventually drifted into a fitful sleep. Her dreams were plagued by flames and the roar of an unseen creature, echoing the fears and uncertainties that gnawed at her heart.